


Centered On You

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: The chronicles of Teddy and James [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Godric's Hollow, Hide and Seek, Implied Sexual Content, Love, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been like this for as long as you can remember. He’s always had the power to reduce you to a bumbling little boy and you can’t help but appreciate that talent, because it’s like a rare gift. You’ve lived your life reckless and unapologetic, but when you’re in his arms you are just James, and he is just Teddy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Centered On You

**Author's Note:**

> See, I told you I'd make it up to him...Sort of. ;)

It’s dark.

 

Well beyond the restrictions of time and space that are respectable, and you relish every moment because this is _your_ time—the twilight cover of night when Godric’s Hollow sleeps and it’s just you and just him.

 

You’re running hard and fast and you ignore the painful hitch in your chest because you know that if you push yourself just a little bit farther and a little bit faster, you’ll find what you are looking for.

 

“You can’t hide forever.” You hiss the words out as quietly as you possibly can as your feet screech to a halt in the middle of a field of yellow grass and dead weeds and you know that your voice isn’t really quite at all, but you hardly care. You are not quiet and you’re hardly subtle, it’s just not in your make-up and you think that he anticipates this the most.

 

Somewhere in the distance you hear a rustling of underbrush and you take off again, sprinting past a rotted out tree trunk that has long-since decomposed, it’s dead branches drooping and bending towards the earth like the spindly arms of a deceased lover. You’re heart is racing and you pant in short, open-mouth bursts as a bright red flush rises high on your cheeks. When you jump around the backside of the tree you shout “Aha!” as if you half-expected to find him crouched there; you are hardly surprised to find nothing at all.

 

The game feels like a race against the clock, and each second that slips through your fingers is a missed opportunity and you know that you have to find him; fast.

 

You’ve slowed down again because the pain in your chest has reached the point where it is too much to ignore, and when you bend over and rest your palms on your knees, your entire body shakes with each breathless gasp for air. You are starting to feel like you are on the losing side of this game and it sparks the fire of determination inside of you because you don’t like to lose.

 

You pick up the search again, changing your tactic and treading silently; or as silently as brittle blades of dead grass underfoot will allow. The massive English Oak up ahead is like a beacon in the night, calling to you. Its leafy branches are full of life despite the lack of nourishment, and they reach up towards the heavens like they know things that you do not. Your fingertips trace over the bark as you circle the tree, frowning when you come up empty yet again. You consider giving up and leaving him out here all alone when you hear the faint sound of laughter above you. When you tip your head back you see him, perched on a branch not far above you, trainer-clad feet dangling just out of reach.

 

“I should have seen that one coming.” You say with a grin, and then you watch as he jumps down, and you can’t help but appreciate the agile grace with which he lands in a graceful crouch at your feet.

 

“You really should have.” He says brightly as he stands and when he smiles, you see the sun and the moon and every single star in the sky contained within him.

 

“Well, I suppose I’ve lost.” You mutter a bit regretfully and when you frown, he is right there with his fingertips tracing over your bottom lip gently.

 

“Have you?” He asks, and when you lift your gaze, he is arching a questioning brow at you.

 

“Maybe not.” You amend with a grin and then you fling your arms around his middle and hold him so tightly that you think you could absorb everything about him into yourself.

 

When he tilts your chin up and kisses you, your insides instantly turn to liquid and all of your bones feel like jelly. You think his kisses could surrender a nation, but you are content in keeping them to yourself and you hold him tighter because you don’t think he knows exactly how much you love him.

 

“Hey,” He whispers in your ear and when your eyes flutter shut you can just barely manage a breathy “Hmm?” because your heart is wedged in your throat.

 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says between delicate kisses that hit you around the backside of your ear and now you _really_ feel like a boneless mass of limbs and love.

 

“Good.”  You somehow manage around an impossible smile, and when he nudges you up against the strong base of the oak tree, you ignore the sharp wooden angles that tear at your skin through your jumper.

 

It’s been like this for as long as you can remember. He’s always had the power to reduce you to a bumbling little boy and you can’t help but appreciate that talent, because it’s like a rare gift. You’ve lived your life reckless and unapologetic, but when you’re in his arms you are just James, and he is just Teddy.

 

His head tips back and he peers up at the midnight sky and you watch him desperately, your eyes sliding over the taut line of his throat and the supple protrusion that you would very much like to close your lips around.

  
“How much time do we have?” He murmurs, and then he is looking at you like you have all the answers.

 

“Enough.” You say and then you pull him close enough to kiss again, because you think that any more wasted time would be a great misfortune.

 

When he sinks down into the damp earth at the base of the tree you easily go with him in a single, fluid movement. Your fingertips press into the fronts of his shoulders and you ease him back into the mossy dirt, mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as you quickly straddle him before he can get away. His hands slide over your jean-clad thighs and you lean down over him, dark strands of your hair standing out like glaring opposites against his turquoise-tinted locks. When you kiss him it feels like the first time; every time, and you can’t help but feel fiercely protective of him and these stolen moments that you gather for yourself. 

 

Teddy had been here waiting for you, every night since you’d come home from Dorset.  You had no idea if you were dreaming or if everything would change suddenly, but you were well past the point of caring. It was easy to lose yourself in the protective cover of nightfall. No one in your family knew what you and Teddy got up to when they slept, and you felt like it was the best kept secret that only the two of you shared. You didn’t want to think of what might happen tomorrow, next week, a year from now. You were living in _this_ moment, and you were all in; for better or worse.

 

He smiles when you hitch up his jumper and touch him _just like that_ , which makes you want to do it again and again. You watch him beneath you like your own private angel for the taking, and your heart twists painfully because you’ve always loved him so much and you hope to fucking god he’s not going to hurt you again. You are strong, and perhaps that alone is why Teddy does what he does; because he knows you can handle it.

 

But you don’t want to think about what Teddy does when he pushes you away and so you kiss him instead; hard and insistent, just how he likes.

 

By the time you’ve shed all of the barriers between you, the moonlight is beginning to fade and you sigh with impatience and just a little bit of sadness because you wish it could always be like this. It’s so much easier to hide away with him in the darkness because you know the sun is much to bright for you both. 

 

Every time you sink into his lap he lets out a soft pant that hits you right at the base of your throat. Gone are the stolen moments hidden beneath the pretense of liquor. Every since you returned home, every night with him has been about retaining the imagery and holding onto the memories, because you aren’t sure how long they will last and you don’t think you can ever give to anyone else what you’ve already given to Teddy. His arms are firm around your middle and the way his fingertips press into your spine make you want to come apart. You are racing against time and the sun and you are split clean in half because you need him so much longer than you ever have him for.

 

This isn’t just about the sex; at least you don’t think it is.  You enjoy your nights with Teddy because you love him, but also because you think that you are getting to know one another all over again. Sometimes you can grow up beside a version of someone that is nothing like the real thing, and you sometimes wonder how much of Teddy you actually know at all.

 

His grip tightens around you and you breathe raggedly because, just like the night, this moment is going to slip away from you no matter how hard you wish it wouldn’t. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck and twist gently in hair that is always beautiful to you, no matter the color. When you look into his eyes you think you see your love mirrored back at you, just beyond the lavender irises that are blown out wide.

 

“I love you.” You whisper into his mouth, and when his tongue swipes away the words, you sigh and give in because, never have you been so honest and open than you are with him.

 

When he comes you think you hear him say it back, but you are too scared to clarify, and you kiss his temples and kiss his eyelids instead. His chest heaves against yours and you can’t help but smile because you are still stupidly happy, despite the clear line of uncertainty that you are constantly balancing on. You tell yourself that this could be enough for you, these nights together when the world sleeps—Deep down you know yourself better than that. You want all of it because you are selfish; every part of Teddy, even the daylight. 

 

It doesn’t take long to sort out your scattered clothing and tug it on haphazardly. You’ve misplaced your shorts and your jumper is on inside out, but it doesn’t matter. When you walk back up to the house together you slide your hand in his, and when his fingers close around yours you smile because the sun is there, just over the horizon and maybe, just maybe, you’ve won after all.


End file.
